


not in spite of, but because of

by feloosha (gwencelot)



Series: Ironqrow Week 2020 [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Academy days y'all, Beacon Academy, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22227016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwencelot/pseuds/feloosha
Summary: Beacon days. James Ironwood is really hot and cool, so of course Qrow's semblance decides he will make a fool of himself every time they interact.---The first time he sees the hot guy visiting from Atlas, Qrow can’t look away, and ends up walking face-first into the library door.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Series: Ironqrow Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599922
Comments: 27
Kudos: 134





	not in spite of, but because of

**Author's Note:**

> My first entry for ironqrow week that loosely fills the "opposites attract" category ;)
> 
> Inspired by this tumblr prompt from [walkingdisaster-sherlocke](https://walkingdisaster-sherlocke.tumblr.com/post/190134795777/heres-a-prompt-i-might-write-but-also-putting-out):
> 
> A fic following Qrow in his academy days, trying to look cool and amazing for that hot Atlas student James, but every time, his bad luck strikes and leaves him messing up/embarrassing himself in front of James.
> 
> ie: staring at Ironwood as he runs into a door/pole/wall, trying to spar with him only to trip over his own feet, constantly being tongue-tied around James, leans on an table only to completely miss and fall, etc.
> 
> And, of course, James is amused and thinks Qrow is pretty cute for it.
> 
> [See what's in the works at my tumblr!](https://feloosha.tumblr.com/wip)

The first time he sees the hot guy visiting from Atlas, Qrow can’t look away, and ends up walking face-first into the library door.

“Fucking— _ow,_ ” he complains, holding his nose as Tai laughs his ass off beside him, not even bothering to check if he’s okay.

“Hey, are you alright?” It’s the hot guy, _of course it is,_ because that is quite literally just Qrow’s luck. Qrow looks at his hand—no blood, so no nose bleed, thank god—before looking up, and oh _no,_ this guy is even better to look at up close. Concerned blue eyes boring into his own, silky black hair he wants to _pull,_ a chiseled jaw he could sink his teeth into—

Tai clears his throat, raising his eyebrows. Qrow snaps out of it, feels his face growing hot. He’s _staring._

“Yeaaauuup, I’m good,” he says eloquently, voice cracking. The guy tilts his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else but is interrupted by a loud buzz in his pocket. He checks his Scroll and gives them both an apologetic look.

“If you’re sure. See you around.” Qrow watches him walk away, letting out a barely-audible whimper. Tai’s mouth slowly forms an ‘o’ shape before morphing into a shit-eating grin. Qrow groans. He’s doomed.

* * *

With the Vytal Festival just a few weeks away, Qrow should be concentrating on training, strategizing with his team, but he finds himself wandering around campus more than usual, lingering in places he figures the other visiting students might hang out—the library, the common area in the dorms, and the cafeteria, where they all are now.

“Where are you going?” Raven asks grumpily, stabbing at a pancake as Qrow grabs his breakfast tray and makes to leave the long dining table. 

“We’re having a practice match with Team OPAL in half an hour,” Summer reminds him, pushing her own food around her tray. Tai dozes beside her, head pillowed in his arms, trying to get a few more minutes of precious sleep. Qrow rolls his eyes, sitting back down.

“I forgot.”

“You’re awfully forgetful lately,” Summer says, humming thoughtfully. She and Raven exchange a look. Qrow hates when they do that.

“What?” He asks defensively, releasing his tray and folding his arms. Summer pops a home fry in her mouth innocently, but Raven has no reservations about laying it out for him.

“Tai told us about the other day. You’re horny for that Atlas student,” she says bluntly. Qrow and Summer choke simultaneously, and Raven reaches over to helpfully pound their team leader on the back. When they’ve both recovered, Qrow glares at his sister, twin red eyes staring boredly back at him. 

“I—am _not,_ ” he starts, trying to sound convincing. When neither girl is swayed, he throws his hands up in the air, knowing he’s not going to win. “Okay. But have you _seen_ him?”

“Not my type,” Raven says simply, eyes drifting between Summer and Tai. Summer giggles.

“He’s cute,” she agrees, reaching over the table to poke Qrow playfully in the arm. “I saw him training with his team yesterday. He was really…” She trails off and her silver eyes dart to focus on something to Qrow’s left. He turns towards the door where she’s looking, feeling his heart start to beat faster when the very person they’re talking about walks into the cafeteria. He’s with three other people dressed in Atlas white, presumably his teammates, and Qrow’s throat goes dry when he starts to walk closer. 

“Oh god, how is my—” Qrow breathes deliberately into Raven’s face, grinning when she makes an appalled noise and bats him away.

“God, Qrow, you’re disgusting! Your breath is fine!” She snaps, shaking her head as she gets up from the table to dispose of her tray. Summer throws Qrow a quick wink before following her, leaving Tai behind to snooze and Qrow to whirl around and greet Hot Guy by himself. The rest of his team continues by with only passing curious glances.

“Hey,” Qrow had forgotten how low his voice was, back when he’d heard it at the library, and tries not to melt right then and there. It’s so _smooth._ And his hair is still a bit morning-mussed, fluffy, not slicked back and controlled as it had been before. It’s just not _fair._ “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. Qrow, right?”

Qrow takes a breath before answering to make sure nothing stupid comes out again. He wants to hear his name from that mouth a million more times. “Yeah, that’s me. How did you…?”

“We’ve been told to keep an eye out for Team STRQ when the festival starts.” Hot Guy smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s _beautiful._ “I suppose you’ve made quite the impression even outside of Vale.”

Qrow grins, cocky. Now _this,_ talking fights, weapons, this is something that comes easily to Qrow. He can turn on the charm for this.

“I’m James Ironwood,” the Atlas guy continues, and finally, Qrow has a name to put to the face. And he has a few more images he could put to that name, too—Ironwood, really?—but he refrains. Qrow reaches a hand out to lean casually on the table, the other moving to his hip—and promptly misses, hand landing in the empty air between the table and his seat, momentum sending him crumpling to the ground and knocking the chair over.

Tai wakes up with a jolt, looking around for the source of the noise and seeming unsurprised when he sees Qrow on the floor. He nudges Qrow with his foot, snickering when Qrow huffs and pushes it away.

“Qrow,” James says quickly, leaning down. Kindly, there’s no amusement on his face, not even the hint of a smile. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Qrow says, standing up with a wince. Yeah, that’s gonna be a bruised tailbone later. Great. Pride wounded _again,_ he sighs and does the only thing he can think of that might make James forget this ever happened. “Want to watch us spar?”

* * *

Team STRQ is ahead 4-2, and they’re holding back, and Qrow is _antsy._

He stalks around their two remaining opponents, both talented girls but nowhere near his level, dodging attacks and calculating movements, and finally engages the mechanism that transforms Harbinger into a scythe. He relishes in the fleeting panicked looks he receives from both girls as the gears shift into place, metal screeching together until Harbinger stands proudly in its full form, taller than even Qrow himself.

Qrow takes a moment to glance over to the small crowd gathered to watch the match. He spots James immediately, white uniform a stark contrast to Beacon’s dark one and towering over the other students. He smiles when he catches Qrow’s eye, waving.

_Perfect,_ Qrow thinks with a smirk, locking eyes with one of the girls as the other engages with his other teammates. _This oughta impress him._ He rears back, ready to throw his whole body into a spinning attack, but feels the second it goes wrong, the second his semblance decides to intervene.

He stumbles back but overcorrects, the weight of Harbinger heavy in his hands, and lands flat on his face, the hard tile of the training room meeting his cheek with a _crack._ Qrow groans, but swears he hears Raven groan louder as she streaks by, always there to pick up his pieces.

James is going to think he’s the clumsiest motherfucker in the world at this rate.

* * *

Even if James _does_ think that, he doesn’t mention it to Qrow any of the times they see each other over the coming days. In fact, he surprises Qrow by being the opposite of everything Qrow has ever heard about Atlas students: instead of being stuffy and uptight, James is good-natured and humorous; rather than being cold and cruel, James is nothing but warm and kind.

“You sure you’re from Atlas?” Qrow asks one day, kicking his legs back and forth as he watches James from where he sits on his bed, head propped up in his hands. They’re a week and a half out from the festival, and Qrow wonders why James is spending time with him instead of his team, but he’s not going to ask and ruin it. James smiles from his spot on Tai’s bed, stretched out and relaxed for the moment while they have the room to themselves.

“Born and raised, Qrow, yes.”

Qrow loves when James says his name. “You’re just so…” Qrow rolls onto his back, looking at James upside down. “ _Nice._ ”

“Well I’d hope so, otherwise I wouldn’t be very pleasant to be around, would I?” It should sound sarcastic—it certainly would if it had come from Qrow—but coming from James it’s just sincere, curious. 

“I mean, you’re nothing like I thought you would be.” James raises his eyebrows. “I mean—ugh,” Qrow huffs, trying to find the right words, covering his face with his hands and peeking through his fingers. “I’m not very nice, but you hang out with me. What’s that about?”

Qrow knows himself. Knows how he comes across. Blunt to James’ polite. Arrogant to James’ humble. Quick-tempered to James’ calm. He has no idea what James sees in him.

James’ eyes do the cute crinkling-at-the-corners thing Qrow loves. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

* * *

“You better not have fucked on my bed,” Tai accuses when the rest of the team returns, long after James has gone back to the visitor dorms. Qrow throws him an exaggerated wink and licks his lips for added effect. Tai frowns, eyeing his sheets suspiciously.

“Please,” Raven says, leaning against the door and narrowing her eyes at her brother. “He’s too chickenshit to even ask him out.” Qrow glares at her, wishing she were closer so he could kick her in the shins like he did when they were kids. Now she’s just too fast.

“He’ll be gone in a couple of weeks. He’s just nice to look at,” Qrow says finally, ignoring the knowing looks the rest of his team exchanges.

“Qrow,” Summer says softly, but Qrow pretends not to hear.

* * *

He knows he’s gotten too attached.

If he’s being honest with himself, he’d known that a week ago, but there’s something about James that Qrow just can’t stay away from, and it’s not just his incredible good looks.

It’s the way Qrow can already tell when James’ smile is genuine or strained based on the curve of his mouth; the way he notices the minute twitch of James’ jaw when Qrow has gone just a bit too far, and immediately feels guilty; the way James treats him like an equal despite their differences in class and training and everything else that shouldn’t matter, but does to most people.

If there’s anything Qrow has learned about James, it’s that he’s not most people. 

* * *

In the following days, Qrow’s semblance seems to be more active than it has been for the entirety of his life.

Four days before the Vytal Festival, as Qrow excitedly shows James around his favorite weapons shop in Vale, the glass of a display case shatters as soon as Qrow touches it, stunning both of them. James immediately takes charge, talking the shopkeep down and assuring her Qrow didn’t mean to, and all Qrow can do is stare and try to ignore the pressure building in his chest.

Three days before the Vytal Festival, as he heads to a dining table with Summer, he’s distracted by someone calling his name across the room. As if in slow motion, he locks eyes with James, smiling widely at him, and immediately trips over his own feet, tray of food flying and nearly bringing Summer down with him. James apologizes profusely as if _he’s_ the problem, and doesn’t leave Qrow’s side until he’s helped clean him up, wiping a chunk of mashed potatoes from Qrow’s blushing cheek with a small smile.

Two days before the Vytal Festival, it’s nearing the end of the day, and Qrow thinks maybe he’s caught a break. He even notices one of his shoes is untied before it can cause him to fall (again). He stops in the hall, leaning down to retie it, and freezes when he hears a loud tearing sound. James pauses beside him, and the silence stretches out too long between them. 

“...My pants ripped, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, Qrow, they did.”

James, gentleman that he is, presses close behind him for the rest of the walk to the dorms to hide the tear, and Qrow spends the rest of the night thinking about how their bodies felt brushing together.

* * *

The day before the Vytal Festival, James shows up at their dorm early. Raven steps back from the door silently, kicking Qrow’s bed as she passes him and mumbling something about his boyfriend being here.

As she settles back into bed to sleep in, Qrow sits up tiredly, surprised to see James in the doorway, face a bit flushed and looking out of breath. “Jim?” He says, voice thick with sleep. James’ face seems to go even more red, but Qrow isn’t awake enough for that to mean anything.

“Can we get coffee?” James asks, eyes flying to the ceiling as Qrow emerges from his pile of blankets in nothing but his boxers, yawning and scratching his stomach. Qrow grins sleepily; Atlas folk are so _proper._

By the time they reach the coffee shop in lower Vale, Qrow is much more alert, and James is acting _weird._ He’s jittery, so much so that Qrow wonders if he really needs caffeine, and more quiet than usual, letting Qrow make a fool out of himself filling the silence with his babbling.

Qrow chooses a table while James orders and pays (“It was your idea, Ironwood, this is all you!”), and wonders why James brought him here. Is it about the tournament tomorrow? Qrow has thought about it a lot; they’ll probably end up facing each other in a match, and he’s sure as hell not gonna go easy on James. But surely James already knows that.

“Here,” the white mug being sat in front of him brings Qrow out of his thoughts, and he inhales deeply, the bitter aroma a welcome smell in the early morning. He smiles gratefully at James, who takes a seat across from him, gripping his own mug between both of his hands.

After Qrow has taken his first sip, he sets his drink aside and rests his head on a hand, using the other to play with a packet of sugar on the table. “So what’s up?”

James hesitates, watching Qrow’s movements, the packet twirling between nimble fingers. Finally, he sighs. “Qrow, I’ve enjoyed spending time with you over the past couple of weeks.”

Qrow blinks, not expecting to hear anything like that. When James looks like he’s waiting for an answer, Qrow stutters, “I, yeah, uhhh, me too.” He flinches, hoping it didn’t come across as insincere as it sounded. James doesn’t seem offended, because he never does, and simply smiles, tapping his fingers lightly on his mug as he watches Qrow.

In the blink of an eye, there’s a loud shattering noise, and James jolts as the porcelain between his hands scatters across the table and floor, hot coffee spilling all over his pristine Atlas uniform. The entire coffee shop pauses, everyone staring, until they both spring into action.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Qrow leaps from his chair, grabbing a handful of napkins and frantically patting James down as James gingerly gathers the broken bits of the mug that landed on the table. A staff member comes over to sweep up the rest, waving him away when he tries to apologize to her, too.

James pauses. “I don’t—wait, _you’re_ sorry?” He asks, baffled, watching as Qrow soaks through napkin after napkin. Qrow pauses when he sees the pool of coffee on James’ crotch and hands him the rest of the napkins instead, sighing as he sits back down. 

“Um, yeah, I. It was my fault.” At James’ incredulous look Qrow pauses, considering. Well, James is going to find out anyway. “I’m bad luck.”

Rolling his eyes, James resumes his pat down, successfully soaking up the rest of the coffee, but the stains are a lost cause. “Qrow, don’t be ridiculous. I was just squeezing the mug too hard.”

“Uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re not that strong, Jim,” Qrow says flatly. James chuckles at that, gesturing for Qrow to follow him as he gets up, tossing the napkins in the trash. With a final apology to the staff, they step back out onto the street, morning air crisp and refreshing. 

James takes a few steps to sit on a nearby bench, patting the spot next to him. Qrow sits, and for the second time that morning, wonders what’s gotten into him. James takes a deep breath before holding up his right hand in front of Qrow. He removes the standard issue Atlas glove slowly, and Qrow bites his tongue in order not to gasp at what he sees.

“Ta-da,” James says weakly, wiggling his fingers. The early morning sun reflects off the metal, making his silvery fingers look even shinier. Qrow stares for just a minute before he can’t take it anymore, reaching over to grasp it. James jerks reflexively, but when he sees Qrow looking at his hand in awe, he relaxes. “It’s, ah. I have prosthetics.” He says lamely, letting Qrow trail his fingers across the different joints and plates that make up the hand.

“What the fuck, James, this is _cool,_ ” Qrow whispers gleefully, wrapping his fingers around the metal ones, grinning when James returns the gesture easily. He looks up at James and his breath catches in his throat; James’ expression is soft, and his smile is one Qrow hasn’t seen before. Qrow clears his throat, making to pull his hand back, but James squeezes, holding fast. 

“Let’s head back so I can change,” James says, and when he pulls Qrow along to walk without detaching their hands, Qrow doesn’t complain.

* * *

“Now, tell me why you think you’re bad luck,” James says when they’re back on campus, dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt while they lounge in the dorms’ common area. Casual is a _great_ look on him, if you ask Qrow. Which no one did. But he appreciates it anyway.

“It’s not that I think it,” Qrow sighs, plucking at James’ sleeve until he rolls it up obediently, letting Qrow study the rest of his prosthetic arm with a small smile. “It’s my semblance. Misfortune.” He touches the metal absently, lingering on the blue power cells. He squints, looking up, trying to see if they match James’ eyes, flushing when he finds James already watching him. “What?”

“Not everything bad that happens is because of your semblance, you know,” James answers, sliding his arm out of Qrow’s reach to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Qrow makes an embarrassing squawk of surprise, tensing for just a second before letting himself be pressed tightly against James’ solid metal side. It’s a weird feeling, but not unpleasant, especially not with James smiling down at him like that.

“Those coffee stains would beg to differ. And all my bruises.”

James shakes his head, leaning his head down just as Qrow is turning his up. They collide in the middle, noses banging painfully together, pulling back with dual groans.

“You were saying?” Qrow says, voice muffled through the hand holding his nose. It’s a lot like the first time they met, which would be hilarious if it wasn’t just plain _embarrassing._ “I’m nothing _but_ bad luck.” Not to be deterred, James scrunches his own nose to shake off the last of the pain before pulling Qrow’s hand down and examining his face for himself. Satisfied, he cradles Qrow’s head in his right hand, looked pleased when Qrow leans into it.

“It’s funny,” James says, running his thumb along Qrow’s lower lip. Qrow holds his breath as James leans in, not daring to move lest he mess everything up again. He feels pressure mounting in his chest again, but it feels familiar, not scary. Like everything has just been leading up to this.

James looks down at his mouth, giving Qrow an out, before closing the distance, letting their lips meet in a chaste kiss. Qrow’s lips tingle when he pulls back, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

“What’s funny?” He asks, fisting a hand in the front of James’ shirt before he can get too far away. James’ smile doesn’t falter, and it’s entirely genuine, but that doesn’t stop Qrow’s heart from racing, nervous.

“I think meeting you is the best luck I’ve ever had.”


End file.
